


Safety

by Saetha



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (Vili in this case), (nothing serious tho), Angst, Child Injury, Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Non-Binary Dwarves, blod - Freeform, durin family whump, dworin whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6198553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saetha/pseuds/Saetha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin and Thorin take Fíli and Kíli out for a fishing rip until they suddenly get attacked by orcs. On the way back it slowly emerges that something is wrong...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand here's the third one for Ivana's birthday! Personally my favourite of all the three - some good old Dworin hurt/comfort based on a fairly old headcanon of ours which I enjoyed a lot to write. <3

 

If they had known that there were orcs so close to the village, they would never have taken the dwarflings out. However, in the morning they had judged the day a good one to teach Fíli and Kíli how to do fishing, a skill that both Dwalin and Thorin had learned from Dwalin's mother during their wandering years throughout Middle-Earth after the fall of Erebor. Dís was tending to the forges in their absence and Víli was supervising the construction of a new part of the mines this day. In theory, Thorin should have stayed in the village for there was more than enough paperwork and other administrative duties to do as Balin had sourly pointed out; but Thorin had told him that he would accompany Dwalin on the trip with his two nephews since it would be impossible for one dwarf alone to tame the two little rascals, and that was that. Being a true son of Durin, there was no changing Thorin's mind once he had set it on something.

The day seemed friendly enough for the venture, not exactly sunny but the few clouds in the sky looked like they wouldn't be producing any rain any time soon, although that could always change quickly in the mountains. After a few moments they passed one part of the patrol standing guard around the settlement today.

"Oda." Dwalin smiled at the dwarrowdam who was standing a little straighter as soon as she heard Dwalin's voice. "Where's Gundur?"

"Off relieving himself in the woods." Oda laughed. "Should be back any moment."

"Ah." Dwalin nodded, whilst Thorin was chuckling next to him. "Everything is calm, I expect?"

"Yes, sir." Oda nodded. "Apparently last night's patrol heard some faint sounds in the woods and we found some tracks that could be belonging to orcs next to the Southern River, but all has been quiet today so there shouldn't be too much trouble."

Dwalin nodded, thanking her for the information.

"We'll go to the Eastern Stream for fishing then," he said, frowning slightly as he wondered how orcs could have come so close to their settlement. For all that they were prevalent in Middle-Earth nowadays, it was still relatively unusual to see them in this part of the Blue Mountains.

Oda lifted her hand to say goodbye to them once they disappeared down the road. Her laughter when Gundur finally emerged from the woods echoed loudly between the treesand followed them down the road from the settlement.

Dwalin soon began whistling under his breath and smiled when he heard Thorin softly humming along after a while. It was rare for his partner to be in such a good mood and Dwalin hoped that it would last the rest of the day. Fíli and Kíli always kept them busy along the entire way, either running on ahead because they could not wait to start fishing or lagging behind because they had discovered an especially fascinating little rock or creature on the way. In the end, it took them longer than usual to get to the stream where they had planned on going fishing, but none of them minded.

Thorin cast a critical glance at the sky when they finally settled down to show the dwarflings how exactly a fishing rod worked and what kind of pieces it was made of.

"I have the feeling it might rain later today," he murmured, frowning. Dwalin followed his gaze and had to agree with his partner, although he didn't like to admit it. There were more clouds now than when they had left and the ones piling up at the horizon seemed darker and darker.

"Then we'd better hurry," Dwalin agreed. They had brought oiled skins and other protection against the rain along with them, but it was always more unpleasant to be outside when it was raining and like most dwarves, Dwalin and Thorin thoroughly disliked being cold and wet, a state that was so at odds with what their life underground in the mountain would have been.

The next hours passed with them trying to teach the boys how to fish, although it was with only modest success. They realised that Kíli was yet much too young and thus impatient for fishing - after a short while when no fish had taken the bait yet, he began to throw pebbles and little sticks into the water and then running around, until Thorin took care of him and invented a little game to keep him busy whilst Dwalin took charge of Fíli. At last they finally managed to catch two small fish that would hopefully spice up Balin's dinner stew. Fíli seemed intent on catching a third one, but Thorin shook his head.

"No, I think we'd better get home. Looks like there'll be a rainstorm coming soon," he told them with another look up at the sky again. It was now darkening rapidly and the wind had picked up as well, a sure sign that it would soon get rather wet. Not exactly desirable weather to be outside in. Fíli looked rather stricken at his uncle's announcement, obviously having enjoyed the fishing trip very much and wanting to try and catch more.

They were almost done with packing their bags when a sudden howl went through the air, obviously close by. Thorin's and Dwalin's heads whipped around in unison, their eyes wide. Dwalin cursed in a few choice words that none of the dwarflings had ever heard before.

"Fíli, take your brother and climb on the next tree," Thorin told Fíli, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible and suppressing his fear. "Remain quiet and out of sight and _do not come down_ until I tell you so, understood?"

Fíli nodded, his eyes wide as he grabbed his brother's hand.

"Go, Fíli, GO!" Thorin shouted as there was crashing to be heard in the shrubs close to them. Kíli made a frightened little noise and together the two scurried to the next tree and up its trunk until they were out of sight.

Dwalin was already holding his two axes in hand and took position next to Thorin who was holding his sword in fighting stance in front of him, ready to take on the orcs whose howls they had heard earlier.

Their stances told much about how accustomed they were to fighting together, skills honed by a war and countless skirmishes that they had fought side by side. Now that Fíli and Kíli were in safety up on the tree they could concentrate with all their senses on what was lying before them. It didn't take long for the fight to erupt - with a shriek five orcs sprang from the bushes in front of them, immediately jumping right at Dwalin and Thorin.

With a snarl Thorin took a step forward to meet their blades, Dwalin moving in perfect synchronicity. Dwalin didn't even need to look at what Thorin was doing - he knew his partner's moves in his sleep and could mirror them with his own without any effort. He ducked under the first orc's blade and blocked the strike of the second, preventing it from cutting a deep wound into Thorin's side, at the same time as Thorin cut the head off a third one who had been about to hack Dwalin's arm off.

Dwalin growled deep in his throat and whirled around, his axes singing the song of death in rhythm with Thorin's sword that set his blood to boil. The warrior inside him knew better than to completely follow that call; he would need his senses for the rest of the fight and should not lose himself in battle frenzy. Dwalin killed the second and third one of the orcs just as Thorin dispatched the fourth and he was about to throw a jest at his partner when there was the sudden sound of howling behind them and five more orcs jumped out at them, this time coming from their backs. They must have walked around the clearing to grind them up in the middle between the two groups. Dwalin cursed and whirled around, still aware of the danger that the fifth orc posed when Thorin's scream cut through the air, followed by a shriek from the tree above of ' _Uncle_!' that drove daggers of ice into his heart.

Dwalin snarled and killed the orc in front of him, whipping around as soon as he could, fully expecting to see Thorin on the ground and unmoving. But Thorin seemed fine, if a little pale, giving him a grim nod before he lifted his sword again to deal with the leftover orcs. There was another shriek from the tree above them, a loud " _Kíli, no!_ " and then two dwarflings tumbled out of the branches with a scream before there was sudden silence. Dwalin saw Thorin's eyes widening in sudden panic and he thought his own heart would stop. Thorin's mouth formed a silent _NO_ before he growled and drove his sword through the nearest orc who had been as distracted by the falling dwarflings as they were.

Dwalin had never seen Thorin fight like this before, even though he could only make out his movements from the corner of his eyes as he was trying not to get killed himself. It was as if something inside Thorin had been unleashed, a deep and profound fury that hadn't been on his face since Azanulbizar. He seemed to care little about the blood that covered him, rage fighting with him every inch of the way.Dwalin made short process of the orc in front of him when another shriek went through the air. One of the orcs had gone after the dwarflings instead of trying to fight the two grown dwarves and with a howl of fury Thorin killed the orc in front of him before throwing his sword to dispatch the one threatening his nephews.

He almost paid for the movement with his life, for the last remaining orc immediately noticed that Thorin was now momentarily without a weapon until he could take out the knife hidden in his boots. Thorin managed to evade the orc's first swing by stumbling back and hitting a tree with a pained hiss before Dwalin swept in and buried both of his axes in the creature's neck. Thorin threw him a grateful glance before almost stumbling over his own feet as he ran towards the spot where his nephews had fallen, Dwalin only one step behind him.

"Fíli! Kíli!" The panic in his voice was audible as he called for the little dwarflings. Horrific images were flickering through Dwalin's mind at every moment - broken necks, the two of them killed by the orc before Thorin had thrown his sword, other injuries that could come from falling out of a tree...his heart almost tumbled out of his chest in relief when he heard the distinct crying of two voices shouting for their uncle. Thorin immediately fell onto his knees and pulled the two dwarflings close, gently rubbing their backs and murmuring something into their hair.

"Are any of you hurt?" Dwalin asked, still remembering Thorin's hoarse scream from earlier. He look unharmed, but with his dark clothes and the orc blood all over him it was hard to tell whether his partner was wounded or not.

"I'm fine," Thorin said, without even looking at him. "Fíli got a slash on his arm from the orc earlier as he was protecting his brother and twisted his ankle, and I think Kíli might have broken his arm when they fell out of the tree."

Dwalin knelt down beside him and gently helped to peel away the dwarflings from the safety of their uncle's arms. The wound Thorin had spoken of didn't look overly serious and Fíli was caught somewhere between pride and terror as the events of the last moments completely threatened to overwhelm him. Dwalin sprinted over to where they had abandoned their packs, only to return a few moments later with the small medical kit they always kept with them. With a lot of coaxing from Thorin and Dwalin, Fíli finally came to sit on Dwalin's knee where Dwalin could bind his arm provisionally and take a look at his ankle that didn't seem to be hurt seriously but was paining the little dwarf nonetheless. Thorin in the meanwhile was trying to calm down a crying Kíli, gently bandaging his arm and improvising a sling to keep it close to his body. It took a long while for Kíli to stop crying, naturally frightened from the fall, the pain and the sudden violence as he had been.

With lots of soft words Thorin and Dwalin finally managed to coax out of them what had happened - they had been lying on some of the lowest branches and thought their uncle seriously wounded when they heard his shout. When he saw that Thorin was still standing and seemed fine, Fíli had tried to hold back Kíli from climbing down and trying to help his uncle. A scuffle had broken out between them and made them lose hold of the branch they had been lying on and then Fíli had tried to defend his little brother from the orc that had been coming after them before Thorin had killed it. At least it had been a low branch and their fall had been cushioned by the brushes, leaves and soft moss underneath. Nonetheless, Dwalin thought with a shiver about everything that could have gone differently and wrong and the many ways in which one or more in their party could be dead by now.

As if they hadn't been beset by enough bad luck yet, the first drops of rain were beginning to fall from the sky. Thorin cursed loudly and after exchanging a quick glance with Dwalin, they shouldered his nephews and made their way back to their packs where they were keeping the oiled cloths that would protect them against the wetness of the rain. With no regards to themselves they first wrapped Kíli and Fíli into the additional layers that would keep them dry and then proceeded to cover their packs and finally themselves. It was clear that neither of Thorin's nephews would be able to walk all the way back.

"Kíli, Fíli, would one of you like a ride on Uncle Dwalin's back?" Thorin asked the little dwarflings gently. He wouldn't be able to carry both of them for such a long way, so one of them would have to go on Dwalin's back whilst he was carrying the other. They had already shouldered their packs the wrong way around so that they would be able to carry the dwarflings.

"Yeah!" Kíli seemed to be rather happy about the idea, his pain momentarily forgotten. He had always loved going piggyback on Dwalin's back and being able to pull at his hair to dictate direction and speed of his 'pony'. Thorin reached out to ruffle his hair with a smile.

"Then up you go," he told him and helped Dwalin lift the dwarfling on his back before holding out his arms behind him for Fíli to hop into them.

Dwalin made sure that Kíli was situated securely on his back before nodding at Thorin and beginning the way back to the settlement. He was going on ahead, making sure that Thorin was always following behind him. Sometimes his partner seemed to fall back and Dwalin frowned a little, sensing that something wasn't quite right. The falling rain, increasing wind and morose mood, however, made conversation almost impossible and they trudged on stubbornly. Even the little dwarflings remained quiet which told them a lot about how shocked they still had to be since they were usually babbling away happily, usually never minding the rain overly much.

Kíli began shifting on Dwalin's back, urging him to go a little faster once the settlement came in sight and Dwalin was only too happy to comply, sick by now of the rain and wanting them all to get warm and dry as quickly as possible. Of course their arrival was met with quite some commotion from both Dís and Víli, but also Óin and the others in the settlement as soon as it emerged what had happened. Thorin gave immediate orders to double the guards that night in case any orc would come looking for retribution for the death of their comrades. Only after the dwarflings were delivered safely into Óin's and their parents' hands did Dwalin and Thorin withdraw.

"I'm sorry it came to this," Thorin told his sister quietly before they left, pressing their foreheads together. The worry and shame on his face were obvious. "I didn't think that the weather would change so soon or that the orcs were still around so far from where they had been seen."

"Ssssshhhhhh." Dís smiled and gripped Thorin's shoulders with firm hands. "It wasn't your fault, brother. Nobody could have known. I'm just glad you brought them back safely." With one hand she reached down to ruffle Kíli's hair who had walked up next to her.

Thorin just sighed and shook his head slightly, clearly still blaming himself.

"You and Dwalin should go home to get dry and warm. Balin's about to heat up some soup so you can all get something hot in your stomachs," Dís told him gently, but firmly.

Thorin still looked at her doubtfully until Dís sighed and patted his shoulder, shoving him gently into Dwalin's direction.

"Come on now, go. Everything's fine here."

Dwalin took the hint and gently propelled Thorin out of the door, not letting him step back inside. He answered Dís' glance with a quiet nod, knowing well that he wasn't the only one who had noticed that Thorin was bearing himself slightly stiffly. He knew his partner's body as well as his own and he was convinced that something was wrong with Thorin, something he hadn't wanted to show in front of the dwarflings or maybe because his own pride forbade it.

Thorin still didn't say a single word as they made their way back to their house from Óin's, but Dwalin noticed how much effort it cost him to set one foot in front of the other. Once at home, Thorin ignored the fire burning happily in the fireplace and went straight up to their bedroom, presumably to get changed. Dwalin frowned slightly; Thorin gave off the impression as if he didn't want to talk to anybody, but Dwalin knew that he had to find out what was wrong.

Carefully he shed his wet outer clothes and dirty boots and handed the fish they had caught to his brother before stomping upstairs behind his partner. He rapped his knuckles on the door before entering to announce his presence.

"Thorin, I'm going to come in," he said quietly, but hopefully loudly enough to be heard on the other side. "I need some dry clothes."

There was silence on the other side for a few moments during which Dwalin almost believed that Thorin might lock the door on him, but then he finally spoke.

"Come in." Thorin's voice seemed strangely deep and rough.

Dwalin opened the door and stepped inside, freezing in his movements the moment he caught sight of Thorin. His partner was sitting with his front turned to him, looking down with a slight frown on his face and still wearing his normal shirt and undershirt. That wasn't, however, what sent spears of both anger and pain into Dwalin's heart - it was the sight of his overshirt on the ground, stained with blood that clearly wasn't only orcish.

"You were injured." It wasn't even a question. Dwalin couldn't help that his voice was quivering with anger. Thorin still wasn't meeting his eyes although the shame was visible in his gaze.

"I didn't want to upset Fíli and Kíli any further. And it's fine, I'm sure it's not as bad as it must look, it's not dangerous, just shallow-"

Dwalin didn't let him finish, just shaking his head.

"Let me see," he ordered. Thorin knew that he would insist on it and so, after a moment, he turned around. Dwalin's fingers balled into fists when he saw the two shirts Thorin was wearing were cut through and still encrusted with blood, glued helplessly to the skin and probably a large wound right across Thorin's back beneath.

"Can I?" Dwalin stretched out his hand and waited for Thorin to give a tense nod. With gentle fingers he tried to peel off the fabric, with little success apart from Thorin stiffening and hissing through his teeth as soon as his fingers began to pull on the fabric.

"I'll go get some water," Dwalin said curtly and Thorin just nodded, still not speaking.

Dwalin walked out of the room, taking a deep breath after shutting the door and trying to calm down somehow. It was all but useless and, snarling in frustration, he drove his fist against the wall, again and again, until at least some of the rage had left him. It wasn't the first time that Thorin had held back a wound from him or his family, not even the first that he hadn't seen Óin about. Dwalin feared the day when it would all go wrong and he would be left with nothing but ashes in his hands and memories in his head.

When he returned with a bucket of water heated up over the fire, Thorin was still sitting on the bed in almost the same position as before, although Dwalin saw that the contents of their packs had been cleared up and sorted.

"Alright, let's see," he murmured to himself more than to anybody else as he gathered Thorin's hair, tied it and laid it over his shoulder to have it out of the way. "Hold still now."

Thorin gave him a weak smile over his shoulder before he reached out to grab Dwalin's knee as he had done so often before. It was an old gesture between them, born sometime during the years when they had been roaming throughout Middle-earth after the fall of Erebor and Dwalin accepted it without flinching, even when Thorin's fingers began digging into his flesh the moment Dwalin began trying to peel the clothes from his back and the wound on it.

"It's no use," Dwalin said after a moment, shaking his head. "It'll take ages and hurt too much if you wanted to pull these off over your head. I'll have to cut them."

Thorin sighed at his words and his grip around Dwalin's knee relaxed, the motion almost becoming tender for a moment before he took his hand away.

"Thanks." Thorin said quietly, after a moment. It was the first thing he had said since Dwalin had seen the wound.

"What for?" Dwalin said acidly, although the movements with which he cut through the fabric around the wound were careful and gentle. He knew that his anger was fuelled by fear which, ultimately, was a result of love in this case. "For doing what I or Óin should have done hours ago wouldn't you be so incredibly stubborn?"

Thorin remained quiet for a moment, only gripping Dwalin's leg again when he began to wet the blood encrusted fabric on his back to finally pull it off.

"I'm sorry." The words were so quiet that Dwalin barely heard them at first. "Fíli and Kíli were more important. And I didn't want to listen to Óin's nattering when we were finally back. I'm sorry I made you worry-"

"Stop," Dwalin growled. He managed to get yet another piece of fabric off, noticing well how Thorin flinched from the quick burst of pain before he managed to steady his breathing again. "No matter how much you apologize now, you'll still do it again next time."

The silence coming from Thorin was more than enough answer. With a frustrated sigh Dwalin finally managed to take the last piece of fabric off, rubbing his forehead when he saw the damage on Thorin's back. The wound might have been minor when Thorin had received it, but the carrying of his nephew and ordeal from taking the clothes off certainly hadn't improved the condition of the injury. It was large and went deep enough to warrant sewing and Dwalin thought he could even see the slight glint of bone at some place. How Thorin had managed to carry Fíli all the way back without breaking down was suddenly beyond him.

"How bad is it?" Thorin's voice ripped Dwalin out of his thoughts. Now that Dwalin had taken away the fabric and the adrenaline was slowly leaving Thorin's body, he seemed to feel the pain a lot more, as was evidenced by the hunched set of his shoulders.

"Doesn't exactly look pretty, if that's what you mean," Dwalin grumbled. "We'll have to clean it and sew it up soon, or it might get even nastier. You'll keep a nice scar from it either way."

Thorin shrugged, but aborted the movement halfway through with a grimace as it pulled at the edges of his wounds. Dwalin began cleaning off the worst of the blood with the rest of the water he had brought, trying to be as fast and yet as gentle as possible.

"You should get this done by Óin," he told Thorin when he was done, wringing out the bloody rag and trying to stay calm at the thought that is was his One's blood that was staining his hands. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to clean it off - it would probably just add to the countless layers of blood stains he saw every time he looked down at his hands and that no washing would ever be able to erase.

Thorin shifted and then turned around to look at him.

"Can you do it instead?" he asked. Dwalin sighed and rubbed his forehead. It surely wouldn't be the first time that he was patching Thorin up - in the decades of their life they had both learnt how to deal with most simple injuries that commonly occurred in the field.

"Well, it won't look great," Dwalin murmured. "And for the record, I still think you should go and see Óin."

Thorin gave him a crooked little smile in response.

"Your stitches are still nicer than mine," he told him softly.

"That's because I've had so many chances to practise," Dwalin shot back, although he felt his anger slowly dissipating. Thorin accepted the comment, knowing that he deserved it, although he lifted his eyebrows after a moment.

"As if you are one to talk," he said quietly. Dwalin snorted; he knew that Thorin was right and that there had been more than one instance where he had patched him up. The only difference was that Dwalin usually _said_ when he was hurt, unlike his partner.

"Alright, you ready?" Dwalin asked him once he had finally collected everything he needed. Thorin just nodded, taking the leather strap that Dwalin offered him that already had his teeth marks on it. He turned his back to Dwalin and gripped his knee again, a position that had no right to be so familiar and yet it was, a witness to how often they had already done this before. Dwalin took a deep breath, wetting the clean cloth in his hand with vinegar before he systematically began to clean Thorin's back, as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

Thorin's breathing was ragged when Dwalin was done and Dwalin left him some time to wind down before he got the needle and thread, pulling it through the flame of a candle several times before he began stitching up the wound. He could feel Thorin tensing up under his hands, his grip around Dwalin's knee becoming so tight that Dwalin was sure he would have more than one bruise there tomorrow. He also knew he didn't care. Dwalin paused halfway through, putting one of this hands flat on Thorin's shoulder and squeezing it gently.

"Breathe," he whispered, pressing a small kiss to his neck. By now almost all of his previous anger had given way to concern. He could almost feel the prick of the needle on his own skin as he was sewing and wished there was a way for him to dull the pain. Thorin disliked both poppy and alcohol if it was the middle of the day and he was required todo work later and there was little else that Dwalin could think of to help and alleviate the pain he was feeling. If he could, he would take all of it upon himself, because seeing Thorin in agony was the one thing that would always hurt worse than his own wounds.

He finished up as quickly as he could whilst doing a halfway orderly seam. Afterwards he slathered the heated skin with a paste of healing herbs before pressing a cloth on it and wrapping some bandages around Thorin's torso, securing everything in its place.

"There, all done," he said quietly and kissed Thorin's uninjured shoulder. A deep sigh escaped his partner as he finally eased his grip on Dwalin's knee and spit out the leather strap. Mindful of the wound and the fresh stitches Thorin shifted slightly so that he sat closer Dwalin before leaning backwards until his back connected with Dwalin's chest.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice laced with exhaustion and pain and his eyes closing for a moment as he drank in Dwalin's warmth. Dwalin just shook his head, but wrapped his arms around his partner in a gentle gesture before kissing his hair and burying his nose in it. Dwalin sighed, wanting nothing more than to keep holding him like this until Thorin forgot about his pride and shame, but of course it wasn't that easy. It would never be that easy.

"Don't move too much," he warned Thorin, knowing that the warning was fruitless and he would probably have to redo half the stitches on the morrow because his partner had managed to pull them. "You should take it easy this afternoon."

Thorin snorted quietly, his eyes still closed.

"The mines won't inspect themselves and I'm afraid there's still quite the number of documents I need to read," he told Dwalin although there was faint regret in his words. Dwalin shook his head in exasperation.

"You're a fool," he said quietly into the long locks. A fleeting smile ran over Thorin's face and he grabbed one of Dwalin's hands to interlace their fingers.

"Your fool."

 


End file.
